Not-So-Magic Kingdom

The cult-like world of Disney means queues and costs, but the parades, fireworks and Mickey ears are so infectious you might find yourself joining in

- Aaron Millar

I ’m a Disney cynic. There’s just something about the combination of a cappella singing and fake Mickey ears that makes me want to do unspeakable things with mousetraps. Surely in this great country of pristine mountains and golden beaches there are better things to do than queue and bleed money? Apparently not. Disney is still one of America’s most popular travel destinations and I have a theory why: it’s not a theme park, it’s a religion. I call it the cult of the mouse.

But my kids disagree, which is exactly how I ended up here in the first place. They cuddled, cried, begged and bribed, and eventually, for the mere price of a peaceful Saturday afternoon on the sofa, the entire family was going to Disney. This is how the evil works.

There were, admittedly, nice moments. The parades are like raves for primary school kids; the shows are fluffy and surreal, and walking around Disneyland with a three-year-old girl dressed as a princess is like being part of Taylor Swift’s entourage — I’ve never high fived so many people in all my life.